Understated Difficulties
by mistress amethyst une
Summary: For Lita. With the failure of Admiral Janeway's effort to get them home, Kathryn is forced to face the eventuality of Chakotay being with Seven. But doubt lingers in Chakotay's mind...and circumstances put his love for both women to the test. C/7, J/C.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** ST: VOY is not mine.

**Author's Note:** For Lita's birthday. Here's hoping I do your complex plot bunny justice. Let's also hope I finish this before you turn twenty-three. :p

**Acknowledgment:** Thanks for the quick beta, polomare. Let's 'hoep' this goes well. xD

**Understated Difficulties  
by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 1**

Kathryn Janeway had lost count of how many times she'd cried in her head. No, she wasn't going to allow anyone the luxury of seeing her miserable. She intended to dissolve into a puddle of tears only in her mind. She refused to weep, even in the privacy of her own quarters, even as she lay alone in her bed. Chakotay wasn't worth the salty cascade that would make her rub her eyes, turning them red. He wasn't worth the sniffling. He wasn't worth the indignity of having a ruddy, dripping nose. He wasn't worth any of it.

No, he was worth much more...

He was worth sleepless nights that turned her eyes bloodshot. He was worth the constant trips to Sickbay due to intensifying headaches. He was worth all the pain she felt when she saw that fondness, that same fondness he'd previously reserved only for her, in the smiles and looks he gave Seven. That's what he was worth.

She felt horrible. She was going to turn into that bitter old woman who'd died in the attempt to get them home. Yes, attempt. The Borg transwarp hub was a tricky piece of technology. The Queen had somehow manipulated it before breathing her last. She was, after all, the heart of everything Borg. When she expired, so did the hub. It just ceased to function, leaving Voyager still adrift in the Delta Quadrant. Well, they were a few thousand light years closer to home, they'd dealt a crippling blow to the Borg, and it saved them the trouble of having to destroy the damn thing but...

Janeway sighed as she took her seat on the bridge.

"Something troubling you?" asked Chakotay.

"Yes," she wanted to say. "You!"

"Nothing," she replied. "Just another headache."

"You should go to Sickbay." His concern was apparent in his voice. "It's going to be a pretty dull shift anyway..."

"Thanks to me," she thought. "Dull because we won't be getting home any time soon."

"I'm perfectly all right, Mister Chakotay."

Well, that shut him up. She sat back, didn't give him the benefit of her gaze for the rest of the shift. Lately, all their time together was spent like this. He constantly tried to speak to her, and she would quickly shoot him down with icy formality. He'd considered asking Seven to put off a few dates. He needed to spend leisure time with his captain, find out what was wrong. Kathryn was his dearest friend. Taking so many risks and failing to get them home yet again must have hit her really hard. He couldn't stand by and do nothing as she fell apart.

The shift ended, and he immediately made his way to Astrometrics. As the doors opened to admit him, he saw Seven turning from her console. She greeted him with a warm smile. He grinned back. He could scarcely believe how intent he'd been on tossing her out an airlock three years ago. Actually, there were still times he wanted to toss her out an airlock. That was a good sign. He liked his women frustrating.

"How was your shift?" she asked.

"The usual."

"The captain is still being difficult, I assume."

"She's always been difficult. That's why I like her."

He watched her silver eyebrow rise.

"It's also why I like you," he added. "Her current disposition is a step up from difficult."

"Is it? Still no idea as to what's caused this sudden change in her?"

"No. Actually, that's why I'm here."

"You think she knows of our relationship?"

"Not exactly. But I do need to discuss something about that."

She smiled. "Are we going to skip ahead again?"

"Something like that."

"You are tugging on your ear," she said, her tone giving away a hint of annoyance. "What are you really trying to say, Commander?"

He sighed. Today was a lovely day, wasn't it? First, his best friend called him 'mister,' then his girlfriend decided to address him by rank.

"I think we should put off a few dates," he said. "It has nothing to do with our relationship. I just need to spend some time with the captain. I'm worried."

If she was disappointed, she hid it well. She only nodded.

"I agree. She needs you. Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"

All right, she was peeved. He left a kiss on her cheek.

"We're still on for dinner tonight," he reassured her. "I'll-"

The tender moment was interrupted by Kathryn's announcement over the comm system.

"Senior officers report to the bridge."

"She has impeccable timing," he thought to himself. "Her future self comes along just as I'm enjoying one of the best dates of my life and now..."

He'd considered turning off the comm system during his dates with Seven, thereby avoiding interruption. He'd never gotten around to it. He'd convinced himself that he forgot because Seven drew his attention so well. Then again, he couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't turn it off because he just couldn't allow Kathryn to lose her means of contacting him, that he wouldn't be able to stand it if he wasn't there when she needed him.

He offered Seven his arm. She seemed confused, but quickly realized what he meant by the gesture. She smiled as she slid his arm in his, and they walked to the turbolift. He refused to admit that it felt odd to have a woman other than Kathryn on his arm.

He and Seven quickly separated as the turbolift doors opened. They couldn't let Kathryn know, not just yet...

* * *

Hopefully, my C/7 doesn't make you sick. Anyway, that's my start. :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **ST: VOY is not mine. Still, there's a very slim chance I might own it someday. I'm too lazy to calculate the probability of that though. :P

**Author's Note: **My brain isn't cooperating. :(

**Acknowledgment: **Thanks for the continuing beta, polomare. Just keep catching the nonsense. ;)

**Understated Difficulties  
by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 2**

B'Elanna was at her station, annoyance painted on her face. It had taken a lot of arguing with the Doctor to convince him that she could handle having her maternity leave cut short. She'd left Miral with Dalby and Henley. They did say they wanted first-hand experience with a child before considering taking their relationship to the next level. B'Elanna was actually the one doing them a favor. Hopefully, those two would realize how ill-fated a match they were after dealing with her quarter-Klingon terror. And speaking of ill-fated matches...

She glared at Chakotay as he and Seven arrived on the bridge. Immediately noticeable was the haste Seven took in making her way to her console, the annoying eagerness Chakotay had in asking about the ship's current situation...pretending like everything was all business.

The captain was the one who'd caught B'Elanna and Tom when they first started "fraternizing." The woman in command wasn't blind. She must have known what was going on between her first officer and her protégée. If she didn't, she ought to.

When B'Elanna found out who Chakotay had been dating, she'd felt sick to her stomach.

He'd come to Sickbay during one of Seven's duty shifts. B'Elanna was still there, recovering from childbirth. He'd thought she was asleep. She had been. But when she awoke to see him flirting with and kissing Seven, she'd thought she was having a nightmare.

_"We care for each other," he reasoned._

_She gaped at him. "You can't possibly be in love with her."_

_"I might."_

_She shook her head, almost wanting to recoil in horror. But then she saw something in his eyes that calmed her...he was unsure._

B'Elanna rolled her eyes at the memory. For seven years, she'd watched the elaborate mating dance between the command team. She refused to believe he was going to settle for Seven after all that. She still remembered her first day on Voyager, how annoyed she'd been that Chakotay was so willing to defer authority to Janeway.

_"She's the captain."_

"Damn right, she's the captain!" she thought to herself. "And she deserves nothing less than you by her side. What do you think you're doing with Seven?"

Her train of thought was interrupted by the sound of her name, and the name of the annoyance she'd been ruminating on. The captain was leading an away team for a routine trade mission on the planet they'd been orbiting for the last three days. Well, she was willing to tolerate Seven if it meant keeping her warp core happy.

Tom turned from the helm, throwing her a quick smile as she left with Janeway and Seven. An away mission would be good for her. Being confined to Sickbay had left her on edge, and maternity leave, which required she remain in their shared quarters, had only worsened her ill temperament.

He fondly remembered the almost manic cheer on her face when she'd gotten back to work a few days ago. Watching her zeal with the plasma manifolds, he was reminded of a child eagerly opening presents at Christmas. He loved seeing her happy, most especially because it meant she was less likely to threaten certain parts of his anatomy with dislocation or dismemberment.

Having watched all three of Voyager's alpha females depart, Tom Paris let his eyes roam the bridge. Everyone was a lot more relaxed when the harpies were away. Well, except Voyager's first officer...

Chakotay sat oddly still. He still had no idea why his captain was treating him with such hostility. It would be awhile before they could have a decent talk. Upon her return, he expected he'd be having more of the same detached conversations with her. He almost wished she'd blow up at him, tell him what was wrong, even blame him for her misery. He needed to know what was going on in her head, needed to make things right between them. She used to trust him enough to let him know what she was thinking. Her sudden coldness baffled him.

He sighed. She was, quite possibly, the most frustrating woman he'd ever met. Still, there was a fine line between frustrating and insufferable. She was coming annoyingly close to crossing that line. No, she'd crossed that line a long time ago. He would still be in love with her if she were merely frustrating.

He knew he didn't love her anymore. He knew. His heart was Seven's now.

As he sat on the bridge, he tried to visualize the woman he loved.

It's always a pity when a man can't lie to himself.

* * *

Short chapter. Well, there'll be more to come. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **ST: VOY is not mine. However, now the good people at Paramount know what to get me for Christmas. ;)

**Author's Note: **Welcome to Swax, also known as the planet that gave me a headache because I had to study descriptive language to get it down on paper. Grr...I suck at scenery.

**Acknowledgment: **Yep, thanks for the beta polomare. Now, could you please put away the B'atleth?

**Understated Difficulties  
by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 3**

What did he see in her? Kathryn knew her gaze would make Seven uncomfortable, that is, if Seven became aware of it. Kathryn knew she shouldn't really gawk. She knew...and yet she didn't. Maybe it was just the scientist in her, the part of her that couldn't help but observe anything it deemed an interesting specimen. Yes, that was why she couldn't help but stare. She tried to stop stealing glances.

It's always a pity when a woman envies something she shouldn't.

The look of pain in Janeway's eyes didn't escape the keen gaze of Voyager's chief engineer. A few feet away, B'Elanna was busy working alongside Ensign Ayala. As a last minute addition to the team, he hadn't beamed down with them. Instead, he'd come a few minutes after they'd arrived on the surface. Chakotay had thought they could use some extra help.

B'Elanna rolled her eyes at this latest development. Since when did Chakotay think it necessary to send extra help? It wasn't the first time she'd been on an away team with Seven and the captain. She'd always thought he'd seen them as being perfectly capable of handling themselves in any situation. Why did-

"Seven," she thought to herself. "He sent extra help to keep an eye on Seven. It figures..."

Thinking it best to banish that from her mind, she focused on her tricorder. The planet was M-Class, and its inhabitants were accommodating. Having been granted permission, they were surveying the caverns for dilithium ore before proceeding to the nearby city to negotiate trading. So far, results weren't in their favor. There was hardly any ore to be found. Worse, the ore was also unusually impure. The end result wouldn't be worth the energy spent refining it.

She paused to consider their current dilemma. No good would come of their little excursion in these dark, musty caverns. Perhaps there were other minerals they could utilize.

She observed stalactites hanging from the ceiling, reminiscent of icicles in their pointedness and the way they dripped with water. The stalagmites on the floor caught the drops, the minerals in the liquid aiding in their growth. Some were already warped into demented hourglasses, joined with their ceiling counterparts.

Feeling almost as if she were in a mouth possessed by a mythical creature of particular malevolence, she couldn't help but take note of the soft, moist surface of the cavern floor. It was covered in wet sand colored by oxidized iron, making her feel as if she were standing on a huge bleeding tongue. The smell of rust was reminiscent of that particular fluid of life. She could almost taste the violence in the air.

The stalagmites that hadn't merged with their counterparts on the ceiling surrounded her like an imposing set of rotten teeth, mildewed and jagged. Drops of mineral-rich water fell from the stalactites, mimicking how venom dripped from a vindictive serpent's fangs. Something about this place made her very uncomfortable. On Earth, a cave like this would have been full of bats, the floor covered in guano. She'd never been to any of those caves on Earth, only heard of them from her detestable cousins, the ones who'd mocked her forehead and compared her to those wrinkled, bug-eating, blood-sucking rodents. She still remembered how one of them had told her of how baby bats would fall from cave ceilings to drown in their own feces, to have insects dwelling in the refuse consume them alive until all that remained was fur and bone...

She shuddered. Suddenly, she was seized by a desire to flee from the cavern. Without warning, the ground beneath their feet gently trembled.

"Did you feel that?" Ayala queried.

"I am not detecting any seismic activity," reported Seven.

The sound of slithering permeated the cave, scaly skin rubbing against rock at rapid speed.

"That doesn't sound seismic to me," Janeway stated snippily.

She scrambled to gather their equipment, prompting the others on the team to follow her example. The pleasure of being the first to spot the cavern's hostile inhabitant was all hers. Seeing a shadow emerging was enough to tell her that they needed to get out fast.

"Run!" she barked.

Torres and Ayala heeded her, heading for the exit as quickly as they could. Seven remained unbudged, trying to pull her tricorder from between some rocks, where it had fallen amidst the panic.

"Seven, there's no time!" she pleaded, dragging the unruly ex-Borg from her task, a mammoth feat considering the strength Seven possessed due to her hive heritage.

"The data!" protested Seven.

Janeway left no room for argument. She grabbed Seven by the arm in such a way that would force her protegee to keep pace until they were out of harm's way. A stray rock tripped her as they raced out, causing her to fall and hit her head. She immediately picked herself up, ignoring the pain even as Seven made it more difficult by being dead weight. Feeling an enormous sense of relief when they'd finally found themselves free of the cavern's dark grasp, she finally caught her breath. Whatever lay in there, she was only too happy that it didn't like sunlight.

She had been thoroughly shaken by what she'd seen when she indulged in a backward glance as they'd neared the abundant light at the mouth of the cave. A huge eye...the sclera tinged a pallid yellow, reminding her of an egg yolk that had blended into its albumen, staining the white as heat solidified the liquid into something worthy of the breakfast plate. And the iris...a milky blue dotted by a pupil that was hugely dilated, making her aware that it saw them perfectly despite the blackness that surrounded them. She'd watched that pupil contract as the harsh light of day hit it, seen the monster recede back into the depths. The Swaxian minister had failed to warn them of this particular danger.

Her disturbing rumination was soon interrupted by Seven.

"We've lost valuable tricorder data, several pieces of equipment. We should return to recover-"

"No," said Janeway, applying an edge to her voice that could cut through a starship's hull. "Do you have any idea how much danger you put yourself in? Next time, when I say run, you run. Is that clear?"

Seven looked like she wished to argue some more. Still, she knew it was best to suppress that desire.

"Yes, Captain."

Janeway turned from her and addressed Torres and Ayala's conditions. The other two officers fussed over the head wound their superior had sustained. She brushed aside their concern, more eager to know if they were all right.

Seven couldn't help but think of Chakotay as she observed them, how he'd probably make a bigger fuss over Janeway's injury than Torres and Ayala combined. Seven was sure he would have disapproved of how she'd acted in the cave, putting her life at risk for tricorder data. Still, somehow, she was also sure he would've been more concerned if it had been Janeway who'd taken such a risk. The realization stung. She knew it was true. He'd sacrificed time with her just to be able to reconnect with his captain, the same captain who would never be as fond of him as Seven was.

She bit her tongue, tension clenching her jaw. Not wanting to dwell on those thoughts, she distracted herself with the great sandy expanse that lay before them. It would be a long journey by foot to the capital of Swax. To have to spend this jaunt with Janeway, following this little disagreement, was less than appealing. She wished they could directly beam to the location. Surely, it was more efficient than walking through this desert. But no...the Swaxians wished for them to respect their traditions, for them to go through a trial by ordeal before agreeing to trade. Janeway could have easily deceived this species, they could already be at the city and trading for valuable supplies. Sometimes, Seven just didn't understand her mentor's methods.

Hearing the order to move out, Seven let herself trail behind Ayala as Janeway and Torres led the way. As they walked, she couldn't help but think about how much she was beginning to miss her Astrometrics lab, being able to do things her own way. She thought about the argument she'd just had with the captain, about how difficult it was to get along with her superior officer no matter how hard she tried. She comforted herself with thoughts of Chakotay, already missing him. She wondered if this longing to be by his side at all times was part of the romantic experience. It left her unsettled. If that was so, why didn't he seem to have the same longing to be with her? Sure, he'd talked about always wanting to be in transporter range of her when they'd thought they were getting back to Earth sooner than expected but...they weren't back on Earth and she was more than within transporter range of him. Shouldn't he have reveled in that fact? Wanted to be with her even more? No...he wanted to spend more time with-

She crashed into Ayala.

"Lieutenant, why have we stopped?"

He didn't speak, only stepped aside. The captain was knee-deep in sand, and Torres had grabbed hold of her superior's hands, trying to pull her out. Seven grabbed Ayala's tricorder and took some readings.

"It's a colloid hydrogel consisting of fine granular matter, clay, and a water-based saline solution."

"In non-Borg speak, please?" interjected Ayala. He'd grabbed B'Elanna by the waist and was helping in the desperate effort to drag Janeway out.

"Quicksand."

"We already knew that," stated Janeway sardonically.

Torres and Ayala were sent flying back as the captain's hands slipped from the chief engineer's grasp.

"Seven of Nine to Voyager. Emergency beam out."

There was only silence. So the tricorder she'd lost hadn't been lying. There was a dampening field surrounding them. They were now unable to communicate with Voyager, and blissfully trapped in a Swaxian desert with their injured captain in quicksand. Well, dying was an aspect of humanity she had yet to fully explore.

* * *

Whew...this chapter is done. :) (resumes cramming for her math final) Mean, median, mode, mmm...margarine?


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **ST: VOY is not mine.

**Author's Note:** Toughie chapter to write. Have I already mentioned how I hate to write background scenery? Pardon the shortness. Also, forgive me if my fluid physics is off.

**Acknowledgment:** Thanks for the beta, polomare. Glad this one wasn't too much of a disaster. :)

**Understated Difficulties  
by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 4**

Torres and Ayala's lack of finesse was what was leading them to failure. Palms proliferated by perspiration were making their rescue attempt futile. The quicksand was less dense than most varieties, a consequence of certain properties of Swaxian sand. It was already difficult staying afloat, let alone restricting one's own motion while doing so. Staying still was doing Janeway some good though, slowing her descent. Any movement would cause her to sink quicker, and lying on her back was too risky with quicksand this runny.

The sun was already well on its way westward. In a few hours, night would fall. Seven did her best to recall the readings she'd taken before she'd dropped her tricorder. The dampening field she'd detected...it was of no consequence in the caverns, quite weak. It was only out here that its strength was fortified, jamming communications. And the creature...she'd seen its lifesign before it even appeared. It had recoiled from the light once she and the captain had made it out from the caverns. Seven was sure that the creature was the only life sign she'd detected in the cave aside from the away team's. No prey in there. It could only be assumed that it went out into the desert at dusk...to feed.

Seven observed Torres and Ayala and decided that she simply couldn't let them continue their useless efforts. The captain would die in their attempts to rescue her. Their pulling was causing her to move, hastening her descent.

"Stand aside," ordered Seven.

The two lieutenants paused their pulling to glare at her. The captain, who'd taken the constant dragging on her arms with amazing calmness, had only puzzlement to offer her protegee. However, Janeway knew that Seven wouldn't make such a bold move unless there was a good idea to back it up.

"Do as she tells you," intoned Janeway, trust underlining every syllable.

Ayala released Torres's waist and stepped aside. On the other hand, Torres was far more reluctant about releasing the captain's hands.

"Let go, Torres."

"But Captain-"

"Now, Lieutenant."

Torres finally let go of her captain's hands, watching in dismay as her superior sank another centimeter. Seven stepped forward, extending her hands to the sinking woman. Janeway latched onto Seven, noting the strange warmth in her rescuer's grip. The metal implants that ran through the younger woman's fingers had definitely absorbed the sun's heat and yet, there was no moisture on these hands, no sweat. Seven was perfectly calm and collected about this.

The strength Seven possessed was astounding. It equaled, if not exceeded, the strength Torres and Ayala had applied. And with her dry hands, she extracted the captain with ease.

Upon being freed, Janeway didn't spend much time thinking about her soaked and sandy trousers or her boots that had been thoroughly ruined. Slowly, she got to her feet, trying to regain her land legs after all that time afloat.

"I guess I owe you," sighed Janeway, giving Seven a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Being pulled at was enough to sap quite a bit of her strength. It was odd that she would be the one who needed to catch her breath. After all, it was Seven who had been given the arduous task.

"Owe you?" inquired Seven.

"Never mind. We'll settle our debts once we get back on the ship."

Seven only arched an eyebrow in reply. "We cannot contact the ship. Or anyone for that matter...how will we get back?"

"Oh yes, that little issue. Why can't we contact the ship? Any leads?"

"The tricorder I dropped in the Swaxian caverns. It is fortunate that I still recall the readings."

"And those would be?"

"There is a dampening field here. I first detected it in the caverns, but I lost the tricorder before I could determine its mile radius. Suffice to say, it is most probably artificial. We were still able to communicate with the ship while we were in the caverns. Also, we arrived at that location via transporters. It is entirely possible that the field isn't at full strength there because the Swaxians couldn't make the necessary adjustments for it to be at optimal efficiency in that site because of that creature, a creature they failed to warn us about. It would be advisable to backtrack to the caverns and attempt to beam back to the ship."

"And the creature?"

"It was the only lifesign I detected in the cave aside from our own. We observed its aversion for light. From these two facts, we can extrapolate that it must go out to feed at night. I suggest that we wait for it to leave the cavern, enter while it's off to hunt."

"A stake-out."

"Precisely."

Janeway sighed. It was a risky plan. It was entirely possible that the creature would spot them, that they would become its nightly meal. Still, it seemed like their only shot. She turned to the rest of the away team. Torres was still visibly disgruntled at being asked to step aside, while Ayala stood patiently, his expression betraying nothing.

"Your opinions, please?" Janeway asked them.

Torres only offered a silent nod, still seething from being asked to step aside. Ayala followed her example. Seeing their mutual, though begrudgingly given, approval, Janeway issued the order to move out. She was looking forward to giving the Swaxian minister a piece of her mind once she made it back to her ship.

* * *

So there you go. Already have the next chapters thought out. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **ST: VOY is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Short chapter again. Hopefully, the one that comes after won't be as abrupt.

**Acknowledgment:** Thanks for the beta, polomare.

**Understated Difficulties  
by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 5**

It was a short walk back to the caverns. They'd found a nice big boulder to hide behind as they waited for nightfall. It was already dusk, and as the sun said its goodbyes to make way for a starry, moonless night, Torres tightened her grip on her phaser, ready to pull the weapon out of its holster at a split second's notice.

Darkness came swiftly, the glowing pinpricks in the sky barely making a dent in the blackness that now encompassed the desert. The away team's eyes had adjusted well enough to the lack of light. Seven's vision wasn't impaired at all, her ocular implants allowing her the luxury of seeing as clearly at night as in the day while the rest of the away team only saw shadows and shapes. Usually, she didn't have this advantage but Lieutenant Torres saw the need for a pair of eyes once night came. With a few adjustments, Torres made Seven able to see in a situation that would blind the rest of the away team.

The sand beneath their feet was rapidly cooling, surrendering the heat of the planet's day star into the air. It was amazing how quickly this environment went to extremes. In the dark, they heard various animal sounds, native rodents coming out of their burrows, and then...

An ominous slithering sound came from the caverns, the sound of scaly skin scraping against sand and rock. It grew louder, adding a new dimension to the noises of the night. Suddenly, the squeaking of the rodents grew frantic and fearful. Loud scampering was heard as the desert fauna fled. And then...death squeals. The cavern serpent was on the hunt, and it had just seized its first meal of the night.

Janeway took that as her cue. The creature would be too busy licking its chops to worry about a home invasion. She supposed it would be away for a good long time assuming that all it had to eat were rodents. The minister had briefed her on the wildlife, said that mostly cactus eating rodents inhabited the desert. That was hardly a useful piece of information now considering that the minister had also conveniently forgotten to tell her about the monster in their caves. All that bit of rodent info told her was that the creature would need to do a lot of hunting to fill its belly, and that they had quite some time before it got back.

Upon hearing the captain's whispered command, Seven drew her phaser, took Ayala's hand and led them. Seven seemed the reasonable choice to lead the line since she had the advantage of night vision. Ayala blindly followed Seven, his other hand in the captain's. Torres was at the tail end of the line, one hand in the captain's and the other keeping an itchy trigger finger on a phaser.

They made it inside the cave without much hassle, having been forewarned by Seven about obstacles ahead. The creature's lair was far darker than outside since they no longer had the benefit of starlight. Janeway wished they hadn't dropped their lighting equipment earlier in the day. She was unaccustomed to blindness, to having another person act as her eyes.

"How deep do we have to go?"

Ayala's question echoed throughout the cave, startling everyone in line and causing Torres to stumble, resulting in a domino effect.

Seven provided a whispered reply as she surveyed the line. "I cannot ascertain specifics. I am attempting to lead us to the site we earlier surveyed for dilithium. That was where the tricorder readings verifying the weakened state of the dampening field were taken."

The line was in order. Despite having the four of them fall in a heap, they had all steadily clung to each other's hands, making sure no one was separated.

"Everyone all right?" asked Janeway. She'd twisted her ankle but she wasn't about to let them know that. She was far more worried about the rest of them.

"Fine," hissed Torres, obviously annoyed at Ayala for causing this little cataclysm.

"Ayala? Seven?"

"Fine, Captain," replied Ayala, his tone sheepish.

"I've sustained no damage," stated Seven. "Shall we proceed?"

"Move out," barked Janeway as she did her best not to cringe.

She hoped Seven would keep her eyes forward. The dark would hide the fact that she was limping but it would not escape Seven's night vision. Then again, she supposed Seven wouldn't trouble herself pointing out such a trivial injury.

She kept her weight on her good leg, ignoring the pain as they made their way deeper. Suddenly, Seven stopped, causing Ayala to crash into her back. Seven didn't stumble. Thankfully, the line stayed in order this time and everyone remained standing.

"We've arrived," remarked Seven. "Captain?"

Janeway activated her combadge.

"Away team to Voyager."

No response.

She tried again. When that failed, she felt her exasperation building.

"Why can't we communicate with the ship, Seven?"

"We should be able to. There must be another factor impeding out transmission. Atmospheric disturbance, perhaps."

"Damn-"

A soft crackling sound kept Janeway from uttering that expletive.

"Voyager to away team. Away team, respond."

Chakotay's voice...

"We're here, Commander. Requesting emergency-"

The sound of slithering...again. Here? Now? Heading closer.

"Emergency beam out!" Janeway pleaded.

Her cry remained unanswered. They were trapped in the dark with no where to run.

* * *

Hope that doesn't leave you hanging too much. ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **ST: VOY is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Angst to humor. Humor to angst. I'm dizzy. So yes, another short chapter. Note to self: never write angst and humor WIPs at the same time ever again. Gives you a worse headache then a time paradox... (turns on writing music)

**Acknowledgment:** Thanks for the beta, polomare. Yes, it sucks when files impede communication. xD

**Understated Difficulties  
by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 6**

Voyager's first officer paced the bridge, only half-listening to the status reports concerning their difficulties in getting a transporter lock. He found himself unable to stay still as adrenaline pulsed through his veins, idea after idea running through his head on how to resolve the crisis, an undercurrent of emotion warming his blood, and quickening his heartbeat. He'd gone into red alert mode. There was no room for error. Even through the static, he'd heard how distraught and desperate Kathryn had sounded. If anything happened to her, to Seven, to B'Elanna...he couldn't keep it together forever. He would damn well try for as long as he could though. This was no time to self-destruct. They needed the officer in command to keep his cool.

"We've got one of them," reported Kim. "Still reading four life signs down there. Three human, one unidentified. They're moving out of range and...we've lost them, Commander."

Lost them? Just like that?

"Chakotay to transporter room one. Status."

"We have Lieutenant Ayala," replied the transporter chief. "He's badly injured."

"Take him to Sickbay," he ordered. "Kim, keep trying to find a way to cut through their dampening field. We're not leaving without them."

In a few quick steps, he was out of the bridge and on a turbolift to deck five. Hopefully, Ayala would be capable enough to relay the events that had transpired on the surface. When he entered Sickbay, the lieutenant was lying on the biobed. Chakotay observed that Ayala, despite being a bloody mess, seemed conscious and coherent, and was almost animatedly answering the doctor's queries. The fact that Ayala wasn't dying meant that he would be able to answer Chakotay's questions. The commander got straight to the point.

"We've lost the rest of the away team. Tell me what happened down there."

"Commander," interrupted the doctor. "My patient is distraught-"

"And I'll leave him to be distraught after he's answered. Lieutenant, your cooperation is vital if we're to proceed with any rescue efforts. Report."

The anesthetics the doctor had given Ayala numbed him completely from the pain of his injuries. Clearly visible was a bleeding shoulder, and several angry red marks all over his body. His uniform was torn to shreds. Still, despite all that, he proceeded to state the events as he'd experienced them in detail: the lack of dilithium, the creature, the quicksand, the dampening field, the return to the cave because that was where the dampening field was weakest...

Nothing could have prepared Chakotay for the tide of emotion that threatened to drown him as the lieutenant spoke. Kathryn had been injured while saving Seven from the cave. Ayala described Seven as having been so completely engrossed in the work that she had ignored the approaching danger. It figured that the most stubborn woman on the ship would save the second most stubborn. And the third most stubborn? Thankfully, no harm had come to B'Elanna. The chief engineer hadn't been injured but suffered immense frustration at the bad turn the mission had taken.

"The one bright spot in the whole thing was that it wasn't scorchingly hot. The walk across the desert was all right. No one really spoke..."

Ayala then went on to describe the next cataclysm. When the lieutenant began speaking about how the captain had fallen into quicksand, Chakotay couldn't help but tense. Exaggerated scenarios ran through his head. He imagined himself watching powerlessly as the ground engulfed her. Still, he had heard her voice, hadn't he? She had somehow gotten herself out of the situation. Ayala assured him that the captain had been safely dislodged from the quicksand with no injury. Amusingly enough, it was Seven who did the saving this time.

"I remember the captain saying that she owed Seven for that one. Bit my tongue. They were actually pretty even considering how the captain saved her from the cave creature..."

That sounded like Kathryn. She'd always been willing to give help when she could, and reluctant to receive aid unless she could do something in return. He also felt his affection for Seven growing. It was good to know that his girlfriend was there to take care of his dearest friend, that Kathryn was in good hands.

Ayala went on to narrate how, after the rescue, Seven had told them of her findings, why she'd been so adamant about saving the data. Apparently, the Swaxians weren't as benevolent as they seemed. There was a dampening field surrounding the desert preventing the away team from contacting the ship. Seven told them that she remembered the dampening field being weakest in the cave. By then, the captain had pretty much had enough of the Swaxian trial by ordeal required prior to trading.

"We backtracked. Made perfect sense. It wouldn't be wise to wander the desert looking for other weak spots. That could take days. Who knew if the weather would be as kind tomorrow? We took the sure bet."

They waited for nightfall, for the creature to go off to hunt. B'Elanna altered Seven's ocular implants so Seven could act as their eyes in the dark. They made it into the cave, blindly followed Seven for a bit until they found the sweet spot where the dampening field wouldn't impede communications. But then...

"Immediately after we'd made contact with Voyager, the creature came back. It was dark so I really couldn't see. The creature got me, squeezed me and I got wounded on its scales. I managed to get out of its grasp. Phaser shots were fired. Lots of screaming...it got one of them. And then I was in the transporter room..."

Chakotay felt his fists clench involuntarily. Ayala had already told him that Kathryn had suffered a head wound before falling into the quicksand. She was already injured when they went back to those caves. If that thing had done this to Ayala, what damage would it have dealt her? If anyone had fallen victim to that creature, it was most probably...no, he was underestimating her. She was a strong woman. She would survive, and they would talk when she got back, repair whatever was wrong with their friendship, look back on all this and laugh. He refused to accept that a vibrant soul like hers could be felled so easily. Besides, it would be unbearable if she died while things remained unresolved between them. Scratch that, it would be unbearable if she died. Period.

He didn't overlook the fact that there was an equal chance of the creature having seized either B'Elanna or Seven. Tom was probably worried sick about his wife. And Miral...it would be on Chakotay's conscience if that child grew up without a mother. Then there was Seven...he felt like he'd just been punched in the gut. They'd only just found each other and now...he struggled to control how he felt. Now was not the time to let his heart rule his head. He needed to get them out of there. A talk with the Swaxian minister was most definitely in order.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," he said, resting a reassuring a hand on Ayala's good shoulder. "We'll get them back."

That wasn't a promise, it was a guarantee. He get them back or die trying. The ship would flounder without them. Morale would take a nosedive, efficiency would plummet, and...his heart would break. No, this ship couldn't survive without them. He couldn't survive without them. He made his way out, knees weak from everything he'd just heard, all the thoughts in his head, all the emotions he now had to suppress. He breathed deep, built his resolve, and forced himself back into stability. By the time he'd reached his office, he was more than ready for a heated discussion with the Swaxian minister.

* * *

(faints) Angst is damn draining...


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **ST: VOY is not mine.

**Author's Note: **It's back to school for me so updates will be slower. Education is top priority. Fan fiction is a close second though. :p So yeah, short chapter again.

**Acknowledgment:** Thanks for the beta, polomare.

**Understated Difficulties  
by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 7**

Seven was a good shot, a very good shot. Of course, superior visual acuity and the ability to see in the dark contributed highly to that fact. Still, despite those physical, or maybe one should say mechanical, advantages, it had taken her some time to recover from trying to avoid crashing into Ayala as the shimmer of a transporter beam momentarily lit up the dark and caused him to vanish. There was enough of a glow to momentarily blind the creature. At the time, Lieutenant Torres had been crawling on the cavern floor seeking the phaser that had slipped from her grasp, causing the beam to escape her notice. Seven had made a hurried grab for the weapon, set it to kill, and fired on the living, breathing mass of territorial serpentine fury. This time, the sound of the shot wasn't lost on the lieutenant. Seven was quick. In the dark, they could hear the captain gasping for breath. Not quick enough?

"Captain-"

"I'm fine, Seven," panted Janeway. "Is it dead?"

Seven retrieved one of the tricorders they'd lost in their earlier foray into the cavern. "Its lifesign is weak. I suggest we resume trying to contact Voyager. Ayala has already been beamed out."

"They got Ayala?" asserted B'Elanna. "You saw this?"

"Yes. It's possible that Swaxian operatives took him, but since we made contact with the ship shortly before he was transported, it is more likely that Voyager beamed him aboard."

"Looking on the bright side, Seven?" Janeway coughed shortly after making that statement. Her hand came up to her mouth and caught the refuse. In the dark, Seven could clearly see the reddish hue of the thick liquid the captain was expectorating. She also noted her superior's wounded shoulder, punctured by what could only have been the creature's fang.

"You are injured."

"What else is new? It just got a bite in. Flesh wound. Nothing to worry about. You're the only one who can see. Any idea why the communications link isn't working?"

Seven used the tricorder on the surrounding vicinity. "The dampening field should not be causing interference. Readings indicate a mild fluctuation in humidity, highly indicative of tropospheric change."

"The weather, you mean."

"Exactly. Atmospheric disturbances. I'll make adjustments to my combadge in order to magnify the signal. I may have to utilize nanoprobes."

"Go ahead. Just see to it that we can contact the ship."

Janeway choked out that sentence, trying to suppress the urge to cough as the salty, metallic tang of warm blood filled her mouth. She took deep breaths and resisted the urge to gulp down air with her mouth. There was no need to alarm Seven and B'Elanna by making a show of how difficult it was getting for her to breathe. She did her best to keep her respiration quiet. Now was not the time for her to be incapacitated...

Having the captain's consent, Seven took off her combadge and attempted to make adjustments in order to help the signal cut through the interference. Despite her ability to see, she required a lot more illumination to do a job this meticulous. A nanotubule shot out of her technology-encrusted hand, making a small incision in the metal and inoculating the combadge with nanoprobes. It would be optimistic to think that the efforts of her Borg technology would be enough to boost the signal. Still, a little help from the collective never hurt.

The nanoprobes rapidly ravaged the circuits within the device, imbuing it with Borg perfection. The assimilated combadge was now capable of contacting any Borg vessel within communications range despite interference. Now all Seven had to do was tweak it to recognize Voyager as Borg...

The work was taxing as she forced herself to focus on manipulating the tiny complicated mass of assimilated wiring with precision. Human hands weren't exactly the best tools for a job requiring this much attention to detail. Concentration usually came to her easily but she was finding it difficult as loud breathing issued from her captain's location. It would be best if she ignored it. The sooner she finished this task and made contact with the ship, the sooner they could get their bleeding team leader to Sickbay...

B'Elanna followed the sounds of the labored respiration. "Captain! Are you all right?"

The sound of Seven activating the modified combadge distracted Janeway from replying. They would need silence to hear and understand any messages the ship sent.

"Away team to Voyager," boomed Seven. "Please respond."

Static permeated the comm channel but a voice desperately fought its way through the electric crackling. Seven could only allow herself a small sense of relief at knowing it was not the voice of the hive. The words from the other end were imperceptible but they made their way through.

Janeway opened her mouth to commend Seven only to have more blood come surging out her throat. The familiar sensation of a transporter beam embraced her as she lost consciousness.

* * *

That bit with the assimilated combadge is so not my usual thing. I hate technobabble. And yes, angst is still damn draining. Fulfilling but draining. :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** ST: VOY is not mine.

**Author's Note: **All right, pardon me for crappy simile and metaphor in describing pain. Hopefully, my accuracy in that department will increase once I've endured my first twelve hour military training thingy tomorrow. :)

**Acknowledgment:** Thanks for the beta, polomare.

**Understated Difficulties  
by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 8**

Chakotay was about ready to start cussing at the Swaxian minister. The female politician insisted on an audio-only comm link, saying it was not in their custom for someone of her rank to glance upon 'foreign heathens.' It hadn't been that way when they'd first met her but she now obviously held them in contempt. It was probably for the better that she couldn't see his face because he was quite sure she wouldn't appreciate the rage and annoyance painted on his features. At least, he could sound calm while wanting to punch his computer. Honestly, if he'd met her in person, he would have been highly tempted to forget his little rule about not harming females. Self-righteous prattle flowed from the other end of the line, words concerning the "benevolent serpent" judging his captain and crewmates as being unworthy of Swaxian kindness.

"If they were worthy, there would have been no need for them to be warned," she remarked. "It is the law. The serpent slays only those it judges as malevolent. Your comrades came with impure intentions."

She made it sound like the away team intended to molest the creature...

"Arin," he began, using the name she'd introduced herself with. "We-"

"You are no longer worthy of uttering my name. How many more affronts do you intend to commit, heathen? May the Object of Ultimate Concern damn your journey."

He was getting quite sick of being called "heathen." Also, he was quite sure Voyager's journey was damned enough without having the "Object of Ultimate Concern" adding any more misery to it, thank you very much. Still, he desperately clung to his patience...

"We only wish that you grant us permission to land our ship, retrieve the members of our crew. If we've been judged as unworthy of your hospitality, we'll accept that and be on our way."

He was met with a full minute of silence. In those sixty seconds, he felt his anger building. This was merely a formality. Whether or not the damn woman agreed, he was going down there. The only reason he was doing this was that he knew it was only polite to try asking permission before going ahead anyway. Sometimes, he really hated diplomacy. As he mentally prepared to tell her to go to hell, and that he was going down there whether she liked it or not, she spoke once more.

"Be gone from our space within three cycles, heathens," she stated bluntly, terminating the link.

He sighed. "I'll take that as a yes," he said to himself. His combadge chirped just as he left his office for the bridge, intending to issue landing protocol.

"We have them, Commander."

Well, that figured. He'd gotten the ship cursed, and endured half an hour of being called "heathen" for nothing.

"Status?" he asked the transporter chief.

"We've beamed them directly to Sickbay."

"Thank you," he said, breaking into a jog toward the turbolift.

Upon arriving on deck five, he felt a sense of foreboding. The first sound that greeted him when he entered Sickbay was Kathryn's screaming. He rushed to her bedside, paying no mind to Seven who had risen from her biobed to greet him. B'Elanna, who was seated on her biobed as Tom treated her, looked at Seven, having only pity for the more inexperienced woman. Only heartbreak could come of this...

Seven lay back down, observing Chakotay from the corner of her eye as the captain's screams filled Sickbay. It was understandable that he would go to Janeway. She was the highest-ranking officer on-board, and badly injured at that. In contrast, Seven was fully capable. His worry for his superior was justified...wasn't it?

He couldn't pay attention to Seven because of the current circumstances. That was simply it. But that look in his eyes...why did she feel like he would never express that same level of concern for her? She pushed that thought aside. It was nonsense borne of ill-founded insecurity.

It's always a pity when a woman of great intellect has to lie to herself.

Kathryn couldn't sense Seven's scrutinizing gaze, couldn't feel anything but wave after wave of bodily suffering, couldn't coerce herself into silence, not even as Chakotay approached. She yearned for oblivion and darkness, for this sick, torturous spectacle she was making of herself to stop. The doctor had awakened her, told her she had to be conscious for treatment, spewed some gobbledygook about neurotransmitters released during an unconscious state. That much she had understood. Still, the pain that now wracked her body made her consider if death was a preferable state of being. She couldn't stop screaming. Clenching her teeth, she desperately tried to slam her jaws shut. Her agony refused to go unexpressed, and tears streamed down her face, adding to the sheen produced by her sweat. She had been put in isotropic restraints, her body covered by an imposing barrier of sophisticated medical technology. As blood trickled from the corner of her mouth, she gasped, weak screams escaping her between gulps of air. She needed to take in as much oxygen as she could before another cough sent a fresh rush of blood to choke her. She spit out the red fluid, disturbed by the rusty, metallic tang it left in her mouth. Was this how she was going to die? Drowned in the same crimson liquid that was supposed to keep her alive?

Her body ached terribly, a strange itch adding a new dimension of discomfort to the pain. She'd never before felt so many unpleasant sensations at once. Chakotay was speaking to the doctor, arguing with the hologram. She couldn't hear a thing they were saying over the sound of her own screams, gasps, coughs...

The rhythm of her heart pounding against her chest further deterred her from being a fair judge of her surroundings. It felt like the muscle was furiously beating against the walls of flesh that kept it confined, bruising her from the inside.

She needed to scratch, to breathe, to scream. So far, the isotropic restraints were doing a good job of keeping her from fulfilling her first desire. Had she been in a more sound state of mind, she would have thought it for the better as she would probably have scratched herself until she bled. At the moment, she felt like scratching her skin off, tearing through muscle and ligament. It seemed as if her very bones itched, like an entire slew of hairy caterpillars had decided that she was the most convenient surface to terraform, and they were now walking all over her, digging into her, pushing their irritating hairs into her until they touched every pore, making sure their poison seeped into her skin...

Breathing was a chore. She had herself convinced, if she ceased thinking about her respiration, her lungs would stop working. Her mind was preoccupied with every lungful of air, every inhalation and exhalation. With every cough, she believed the one force keeping her alive was her determination to keep herself from drowning in her own blood and spit.

And the screaming? It was almost a reflex. Emotional release. Rage and fear.

The doctor pressed a hypospray to her neck. Suddenly, she found herself breathing easier, and her screaming was given pause as her gasping turned into panting punctuated by moans of pain. Chakotay looked at her with such hurt in his eyes, his hand reaching out to brush the hair away from her forehead as it clung there, sticky with sweat.

She turned her head from him, repulsed by his touch.

* * *

Another chapter completed. All right, back to the joys of academic stress. Waiting on that first Com101 test result. :(


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** ST: VOY is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Military training has given me a new understanding of pain. This is that understanding: ow, ow, ow... :( Forgive my medical technobabble. Please correct any inaccuracies.

**Acknowledgment:** Thanks for the beta, polomare.

**Understated Difficulties  
by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 9**

"Kathryn," he begged, looking at her, needing to read the pain in her tortured gaze, to know what she was going through, to understand the gaping chasm that now separated them. She closed her eyes tightly, not wanting to let any more tears escape. "Please."

Something in his voice made her relent. There was a choked quality to it, like he would cease to breathe, cease to live if she persisted in her indifference. Slowly, she moved her head back to its original position, reasoning that keeping her neck twisted made it sore anyway. Her eyes stayed closed but she no longer recoiled when he moved to stroke her cheek. She wasn't strong enough to scream anymore, her panting moving into an easier rhythm. It had taken a lot of her will and energy to turn her head away from him the first time. She was only letting him touch her because moving was too painful and turning from him made her ache physically. Even as she gave herself that reason, she knew she was wrong.

He looked at the miserable state she was in, held down by isotropic restraints, hardly able to breathe, now only making barely perceptible sounds of pain due to her considerable loss of strength.

"Can't you sedate her now?" he asked the EMH.

Chakotay had posed the question to the chief medical officer earlier. The EMH answered him with flustered dismissal. It was unlike the commander to interfere with medical procedure even when Kathryn was at her most mangled but...this was too much. He'd never seen her bound, never heard her scream with quite as much frustration and pain. Even as she'd quieted, silent echoes of her cries seemed to hang in the air. The memories of suffering in her voice clung to him, dug beneath his skin, and punched holes into his very soul.

"The venom has to work its way through her system first," remarked the hologram, the advantage of technological calm allowing him to put the medical mess in layman's terms for his disturbed superior. "If I sedate her, it'll trigger the release of a cocktail of neurotransmitters, and we don't know how the venom will react to those. The poison is already taking full advantage of her delicate state. It seems she hasn't been getting her rest, and that makes it all the more difficult to keep her conscious..."

She hadn't been sleeping. Those eyes of hers...a vibrant blue embellished by bloodshot veins, underscored by dark circles. How could he have not noticed the extent of her self-abuse?

"She's sweating excessively, diaphoresis...the venom is seeping out her pores. The medication is working. Fight it, Captain. Just a while more, and you can sleep. Just a bit longer..."

Chakotay watched helplessly as she shook and sweated. His breath quickened with hers, his heart raced with hers, his mind could think only of her. In those gripping minutes, his entire universe shrunk to fit within those isotropic restraints. Only she existed. Nothing else. His universe was dying right before his eyes, fighting desperately to exist, wondering if she still meant anything to him. She was his everything, every single star that lit his way. If she should ever plunge into eternal darkness...he would be lost, never able to see anything clearly again, never wanting to see...

"Oh Kathryn," he couldn't help but whisper, desiring nothing more than to release her from her restraints and...and then what? He no longer knew what to do. A long time ago, the answer would have been immediate. He would have known just how to offer her solace. But now...why didn't he know what he wanted to do? No, he knew. He wanted her to be well. He wanted to help her through her pain. Did he still know how?

"The good news is that asystole hasn't occurred. Her heart is pumping steadily. The drug I gave her is stabilizing her vitals, internal bleeding is under control, and the venom seems to be seeping out of her pores at a rapid rate. We'll get her through this, Commander."

He wanted to believe the doctor. He really did. His eyes were drawn to her face, a beautiful face that couldn't be disfigured by the many expressions of pain that contorted it. He no longer knew what to do, but he couldn't leave her side. Still, it all came down to instinct. Despite his lack of coherent thought, he found himself bowing his head, leaving a kiss on her eyelids. It felt...strangely right. There was more passion in that chaste gesture than in all the kisses he'd shared with Seven. It dawned on him that his girlfriend's kisses burned him with ice, curiosity rather than conviction. To touch his lips to Kathryn's skin, have her salt on his mouth...there was nothing frigid about it. She scorched him without knowing it, pierced his heart and set it ablaze.

Tears flowed from beneath Kathryn's closed eyes. Tears born of more than pain. She was quite sure she imagined that amazing sensation. Why did her mind enjoy playing such cruel tricks? Did it just want her to know what his lips would feel like before life left her?

On the other side of the room, Seven suspected her ocular implant of malfunctioning as she watched the tender scene. She couldn't possibly have seen Chakotay just kiss the captain.

* * *

Sorry for the long wait. I'll keep them coming when I can though. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** ST: VOY is not mine.

**Author's Note: **Semestral break's begun. Let's see if I can still work it like I used to. ;( Contains a reference to Survival Instinct.

**Acknowledgment:** Thanks for the beta, polomare.

**Understated Difficulties  
by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 10**

There's something to be said about seeing only what you want to see. Truth be told, Kathryn had employed the tactic more times than she would care to admit. Chakotay? He was less likely to admit to it than she was. The likelihood of her admitting to self-inflicted blindness? Spontaneous combustion, a phenomena long ago disproved as pseudoscientific bullshit, was more probable. Then again, judging by the look on Seven's face at that moment, a look the captain and commander were oblivious to, spontaneous combustion suddenly seemed more than likely.

It's easy enough to deny what you can see. Seeing isn't believing. Close your eyes. Pretend you were never there once the image has passed. One's eyes play tricks all the time. It's far too easy to dismiss a disturbing sight as one's vision crying wolf.

But how do you deny something that isn't seen? Something felt? One cannot train the heart to feel only what its owner wants it to feel. There is no matter of head over heart. The heart has a mind of its own.

The sensation of his lips against her forehead, it was something she couldn't deny as she lay on that biobed. Her protegee watched, stubbornly wondering if her ocular implants had been damaged by something in that cavern's atmosphere, something that prompted painful delusions.

Tears streamed down Kathryn's face, none made of misery, all expressing utmost confusion. This happiness wasn't hers to have. Why was it forcing its way into her life, specifically, boring itself through her forehead and dominating her each and every thought with the feel of his mouth?

His mouth. His mouth often spoke sweetly of her whether she was there or not. She knew. He told her. The crew often chided him about his "favorite topic of conversation" and he would beam at her should she be there to bear witness to the teasing. She would hastily smile back then return to her work, failing to notice how his face fell. She knew that mouth far too well despite it never having touched her before. Her overwhelming desire that he keep it shut in her presence over the past few weeks had not let her forget how easily his words could sway her at times of weakness. To know that he needn't part his lips to breathe life back into her...it scared her more than anything. A simple warm touch of that mouth against her forehead...

She was dead. She'd died the moment her aged, bitter reflection had traversed time and space to tell her of her damned destiny. Why the hell was Chakotay giving her false hope now? She knew the truth. Her heart was in her throat, and she was choking on it as she cried. He wasn't giving her false hope. She was reading things wrong. She was the one pleading with herself to reconsider the cruel future that awaited, to try to steer herself away from it. In the end, Kathryn Janeway simply wasn't a woman who gave up. After many years of disappointment, she'd told herself that it would have served her well to learn the art of surrender. She didn't know whether to be thankful or not but her heart simply refused to learn how to stop fighting.

It was an aspect wherein Seven matched her. A heart caged in steel and nanoprobes is still a heart.

"It was a gesture of friendship," Seven's mind concluded.

The heart does not accept false knowledge as truth no matter how hard one tries to make the damned thing believe. It would much rather shatter than be lied to. That is how all hearts are. Seven's was no exception. She did not know that yet. She persisted in trying to see something else in the tender scene that had transpired before her.

You can fool the most sophisticated ocular technology in the whole galaxy if you really set your mind to it. She could not. Not this time. It was too real to deny. Her heart would not let her forget. That scene...

"He will come back to me," she told herself. "This is not indicative of a future liaison."

He would come back to her. She knew it. He would come back to her, and she would not like a single word that would come spilling out of that mouth her captain so adored.

She watched as her captain slipped into unconsciousness again, reading the doctor's lips as Chakotay fell to his knees as if in silent prayer.

"She's safe now," those lips read.

That was a lie. Kathryn Janeway would never be safe as long as she was Kathryn Janeway.

The body of the man Seven loved trembled with suppressed sobs, tears that weren't for her. She wondered if he would have acted this way had it been her in those isotropic restraints and not the captain. Her reasoning, her observations of his behavior and the captain's...they gave her the answer, and it was another truth she did not want to assimilate. Still, her heart absorbed it, made it part of her whether she liked it or not. Lieutenant Marika Wilkarah, formerly known as of Three of Nine, had described to Seven the horrors of awareness when assimilating individuals. One was completely aware of committing the unspeakable and could do nothing to stop one's self. She was forced to take into herself something she wanted nothing to do with, something she would very much have loved to have left alone. Seven could never truly grasp what her fellow former drone spoke of until today. Her heart wanted to know what was painful. She could do nothing to keep it from learning the truth no matter how much it hurt her. Yes, it must have felt something like this...

* * *

Done! Well, with this chapter anyway...


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** ST: VOY isn't mine.

**Author's Note: **This fic is far from dead, believe me. It's sad that my time to write is sorely lacking. :(

**Acknowledgment: **Thanks for the beta, polomare. :)

**Understated Difficulties**  
**by mistress amethyst une**

**Chapter 11**

Her back was turned to him when he entered Astrometrics. She did not turn to greet him. Even she knew not to welcome misfortune.

"I need to talk to you."

"My predictions were accurate."

"Sev-"

"This is not a scenario for which I am ill-prepared, Commander. There is no need for flowery language. Speak."

"She needs me."

"Always. I am aware."

When Seven said it, it sounded like profanity. 'Always.' It was a beautiful word. It was a word he and Kathryn often used when answering each other's veiled pleas to be eternally with the other. "Are you with me on this?" was a question Kathryn simply didn't need to ask though he supposed she presented him with the query to rest her heart at ease. The Delta Quadrant was the embodiment of uncertainty itself and he could not fault her for asking. He would always be with her though sometimes he was with her in ways she did not approve of, supporting her in the ways he thought best, ways she sometimes viewed as opposition. No matter, he was always with her, eternally loving her and struggling with her as he stood by her side. 'Always.' A 'yes' simply wasn't enough. A 'yes' could be temporary. 'Always' was the perfect manifestation of permanence, of utter trust and surrender to the other, of no doubt in the other half of one's soul. Never had he used 'always' with Seven. How had his soon-to-be-former paramour found out about that?

As if reading his mind, she replied, "Lieutenant Paris taught me about twentieth century espionage following our encounter with the Hirogen. The doctor thought 'a little practical history' would be complementary to our social lessons. It was mostly a futile exercise but I did learn the value of 'overhearing.'"

"Eavesdropping," he muttered. She paid him no mind.

He turned his back on her, thinking she was probably still too irrational to talk. Not once had she turned to face him during their short discourse. Momentarily, he stood there. His back met hers; a huge distance that was now more than physical separated them. Heartbreak creates valleys of great depth and width between people, chasms one cannot cross, giant gashes that are part of the never-healing landscape of what once might have held great promise as a union of souls. He took a step and began to move toward the door. There was no reaching her now. Maybe someday a bridge could be built between them. Today was definitely not someday.

"You are in error," she uttered just as the doors opened to let him out.

"How so?"

Their backs were still turned to each other. He was expecting her to plead with him to stay.

"She does not need you. She never did and never will. The captain only needs the captain. That will never change."

She wanted to plead. She wanted to tell him, "choose me, love me, need me like you need her, need me the way she doesn't need you, need me like I need you." That was what she wanted to say. Unfortunately, silence will not scream for anyone.

"You don't know Kathryn Janeway like I do," he told her.

He left without another word, gaining a bit of solace in the fact that Seven had not begged him to stay. She handled it better than he had anticipated.

He overestimated her.

He never saw Seven's eyes during that conversation, how they'd watered, hungry for an affection that, however briefly, had been hers and, now, surely, would never be hers again. At least, not from him. Some could argue that what little she'd had with him hadn't been real, was in fact a pale imitation of what real affection was; it didn't matter because it had all been very real to her. She had lost something precious, traded it for something that hadn't really existed, something only she'd seen and felt. How could she not have anticipated this and made the appropriate changes to avoid this pain? It seemed that humanity had blunted her once sharp sense for efficiency. She didn't know if this was beneficial or not. It certainly didn't seem beneficial on the surface but a voice in the back of her mind wished to look beyond that, a voice that had no trace of the Collective's wisdom, a voice that was, at the moment, still being drowned by the silence of her tears.

Seven had maintained excellent control over her voice during that talk. Only she knew about the tears. She cried silently, looking over her star charts even as the liquid skewed her vision. One tear slid down her cheek and onto her lip just as she bit it in an uncharacteristic gesture. She tasted her sadness. She wondered about the differences in salinity between blood and tears. She now understood that both fluids meant grievous injury. It was only then that she truly realized the magnitude of a wound that does not bleed, one that would stay with her as long as her heart, imprisoned by metal and nanoprobes, continued to pump blood and tiny machines throughout her flesh and technological components, as long as she functioned.

Back in Sickbay, Kathryn opened her eyes and became vaguely aware of the universe having shifted in her favor. She wasn't happy about that. Even as the pain receded from her body, her skin covered in strange red welts, she couldn't bring herself to breathe easily. Despite being free from the punishing embrace of the isotropic restraints, she still couldn't shake the feel of being pinned down and paralyzed. He would come to visit her soon enough. She didn't want him to. She didn't want to hear it. Couldn't the venom have rendered her deaf even temporarily? She wanted silence, time alone with her thoughts, with her voice ringing in her ears, her voice and her voice alone. No, deafness could never grant her that. Her mind didn't belong to her; it belonged to Voyager and its voice would always be the first thing she heard upon waking, the last she heard before sleep. The thrum of the engines, the vibrations beneath her feet wherever she stood...that sound ruled her. Sometimes, at times like these, Voyager would not be the last thing she would hear. She would hear the sounds of her own screams of agony or worse, the melody of guilt would play in her head as she slept in an unfamiliar place fearing what else, who else she would lose.

"Don't let him come," she silently wished to nobody in particular. "Don't let him tell me. I'm-"

Her soundless plea was cut off by the all too familiar hiss of the Sickbay doors opening as Chakotay entered.

"...afraid."

Not wanting something won't keep it from shoving itself down your throat once its worked itself into the inevitability of your future. If anything, the undesirable just attacks you with even more of a vengeance, making sure you see it even in your dreams, smell it in every familiar scent, touch it in every warm inch of humanity you deal with on a daily basis, hear it in every note and noise, taste its bitterness in everything that passes your lips...

To put it bluntly, she was screwed.

* * *

C/7 are now over. :)


End file.
